


Paradise

by Livvykitty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Mentions of Bro - Freeform, and gentle karkat, and showcasing that dave for all his cool kid mannerisms is gentle as fuck, gentle dave, got inspired while studying bible allusions, its a lot of fluff, its also pretty angsty so, mentions of abuse, mentions of self harm, really its just gentleness and comfort all around
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-06
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 09:52:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4741892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livvykitty/pseuds/Livvykitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat wants to construct an Eden of sorts for his darling. He wants his golden boy to feel at peace, to let down the guard that had been so carefully constructed from years of things he couldn't control and didn't realize were wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Really, what Karkat wanted to do was wrap himself around Dave and never let him go, lock him up and keep him safely away in his pocket.

Of course, that wasn't actually plausible, but Karkat did try to give him the world in other ways, like in the many myths and legends that Rose had brought from the previous version of Earth. He'd read of Eden, of the apparently selfish God who wanted nothing but complete obedience from two humans who were simply too curious for their own good, and Karkat could understand it. He wouldn't have thrown humans out of paradise, no, but he still  _understood_. He understood the need to keep something that had been pure once still just as pure, unscarred and soft and warm and open, protected from the evils of the world. 

Dave was none of those things, not now. He had that sweetness and innocence taken from him long ago, long before he'd ever met Karkat, but Karkat still wanted to help him somewhat. Even if the troll fucked up the most out of them all, even if he was probably going to make some kind of error and break whatever fragile, tentative little thing that was happening between them, he knew that this was something he had to do. Even if he couldn't get rid of the scars on his back from years of strifing and beatings, even if he couldn't get rid of those on his arms from when he wanted some ounce of self control by turning the blade on himself, even if he couldn't get rid of those invisible scars in his head left by memories that couldn't be erased. Karkat couldn't erase those memories, couldn't bring back the innocence that so many years of death, corpses, and fighting had sullied, but he could at least try to make the human warm. 

Their Eden couldn't be constructed of orchards filled with trees and animals who were as friendly as could be, but Karkat could try hollowing out one gutted room on that godforsaken rock that they were both stuck on to fill it with different things. He could fill it with blankets and comfortable things and stuffed animals (those little toys that he had caught Dave latched onto sometimes, which he had once found strange but knew it made some sense). He could bring in another set of those turntables that Dave had his heart set on, could even bring in a little food trunk to fill with their own version of forbidden fruits. There may not have been greenery and no crows to be found, but at the very least Karkat could try and do this for him.

When Dave finally saw what Karkat's done, he was mostly just confused, wondering where Karkat got this apparent idea niggling in his head to make a completely separate space just for the two of them, but in the end he didn't question. For all he knew it was normal for trolls to do this, and for a while, he still kept that guard up while in the room, not really spending much time in there unless Karkat absolutely insisted, spending the time just doing their own things and occasionally just laying together, with Karkat curled around Dave's form in the pile of blankets and soft things that had been collected.

Karkat noticed though, that there was a little shift. Sometimes Dave would go into the room alone, like whenever Karkat wasn't able to spend time with him or the Mayor was already busy in Can Town with Terezi and Vriska. There was once when Karkat had a small peek inside the place, and Dave was there, curled up in the mound of blankets with his arms wrapped around a particularly fluffy crow stuffed animal, which he would later on completely deny ever doing when Karkat asked.

A few weeks later, as they were laying in the pile, on one of those occasions where Karkat would just hold Dave and let him relax against him, Dave suddenly spoke up and said, "My brother's dead."

It was definitely odd, that he would say that, and Karkat figured that it must have been troubling him enough to say that, as if he was trying to reaffirm this fact in his mind. So of course Karkat answered back, nodding and saying, "Yes, he's dead."

A pause.

"... He won't find this place, will he?"

"Dave, corpses can't fucking find meteors."

"I know, just- just, whatever, I'm being stupid."

And Karkat's arms tightened around Dave so that he wouldn't try to shimmy away, wriggle free from this. "No you're not."

Dave paused, and then just pushed right back into Karkat, giving only a small sound. Nothing more was said, and there weren't tears, weren't sobs, weren't any of that. Dave just silently buried his face in Karkat's neck, grip around the troll's waist tightening as he curled up into a ball. Karkat's heart could have broken right then and there, because even with his brother gone, Dave still thought that he might come back and break this little bond that they had, break them apart and leave this little paradise they'd found for themselves to rot away to dust.

"... You know, I wouldn't let that asshole come in here and hurt you."

There was no response. There were still no sounds of anguish, no open sobs, but Karkat did feel something wet on his neck and felt Dave push into him more.

Then a whisper.

"You wouldn't be able to stop him."

Karkat took in a deep breath and just stroked a hand up and down Dave's back. He mentally cursed himself, because he really was an idiot. He wished he had something to say in that moment, wished he had the eloquence of Aphrodite in the story where she took away Adonis and kept him locked away in a little paradise, kept him safe as could be, but he had nothing. All Karkat could do was berate himself for thinking that he could ever successfully make a safe place for Dave, some place where he wouldn't have to feel afraid of the monsters he had hiding all over his apartment. All Karkat could do was hold Dave as he silently cried, not making one sound, as if even one hitch in his breath or one whimper would give him away to the invisible shadow that still loomed over his head.

Karkat just wished he could do something more about it.


	2. Chapter 2

Really, Dave wasn't even sure how it had gotten to that point.

At first he had regarded the room as something stupid that Karkat had put together as a troll thing, like a flushed version of those cuddle piles that he'd seen Vriska and Terezi lay in together. It had this enormous apparent nest of soft shit, with blankets and pillows and more stuffed toys than Dave had ever seen before.

Why did Karkat stock a room with those things anyway? It wasn't like Dave was a baby or anything. He was a goddamn teenager, with a complex that even Rose couldn't decide in her wildest psychologist wet dreams. But one thing led to another, and though he and Karkat never kissed, they did latch onto each other. It was comfortable in that damnable little pile, and even Dave was unable to resist whatever troll magicks were in it, because even afterwards when he had some downtime, he found himself drawn to the room. It was almost like a little tether; he sometimes needed to be in that room like John needed to watch shitty, outdated movies. Even Dave couldn't deny, though, that it was comfortable and nice. Stepping inside, he could relax a bit, throw off some of the burden on his shoulders and just kick back and relax. Then it grew to mean much more.

Whenever he was feeling particularly overwhelmed, whether from a dreambubble, dealing with some dumbasses, or just feeling lonely, he was in that room, curling up in the very center of it all with one of those plushies in hand. It was calming, despite how stupid he must have looked, curled in on himself while hugging one of those soft toys that were really meant to comfort little kids who were crying because their guardian took away something of theirs, even if they were a little shit and deserved to have it done to him. He still felt so fucking stupid doing it, but it still felt nice, in some way, and it was something he'd never had as a kid.

Though, it seemed that lately, more and more embarrassing things were happening in there, like that occasion when Karkat let it slip that he was seen cuddling with one of his favorite crows (his name was Bowie, but Dave couldn't let anyone know that), or that one time when he'd broken down while in Karkat's arms. He hadn't made any sounds, so Bro wouldn't come and hurt him for being a fucking sissy.

Dave ended up doing the hurting himself.

He hated doing it, hated seeing the blood, and by then it'd been months after that incident, but the cold knot was laying heavily in his stomach and he was alone, and when he was alone he couldn't talk to himself and let the sound of his own voice calm him and remind him that this was real, because then he'd look crazy and crazies were supposed to be killed. So he lashed out at himself the only way he knew how.

He hates the sound of metal on flesh. But he hates the sight of the blood more.

He felt ill just looking at it, and he didn't even remember how he got through the empty corridors stumbled into the room that signaled safety, because Karkat had told him that he wouldn't let Bro hurt him there, and that dead people couldn't find meteors anyhow so it was fine. Karkat wasn't there, but then again, he probably had more important, leaderly things to do. Any bullshit was better than dealing with this.

And now Dave felt fucking pathetic to have been found like this, crushing Bowie against his chest and trapping it with his knees, face buried in the black fabric as he slowly rocked back and forth, back and forth, trying to let the repetition calm him, as if he were a boat out at sea. He could practically hear Rose muttering about mental illness now, that she'd suspected it before, that she was diagnosing him with depression and anxiety and schizophrenia and DID and any number of disorders.

He wasn't sick.

Dave bit his lip, not daring to let any sounds spill over (he can't hear, if he hears he'll come) and then something in him absolutely shattered when Karkat was rushing over to him, wrapping around him and muttering something in his ears, something he couldn't make out or want to at that moment.

Dave wanted to feel safe. He wanted to feel warm and safe and all those emotions that were supposed to happen when someone who loved you held you and told you everything was going to be okay. But he couldn't feel safe, because at any moment, it all could just as easily be taken away from him, and he doesn't want that, he doesn't want to fight for anything anymore. He just wants to rest.

There are tears, but not a word is said. There are kisses, but Dave can't let himself do anything more than shudder and shiver and get this newest embarrassment over with so that he could be alone, and sleep, and not have to deal with anyone ever again. Karkat is there, but Dave isn't, caught somewhere else in a tide of confused emotions and things he knew he must have felt before, back when Bro was still alive, but pretended he didn't because he thought Bro loved him. Dave only wished that whatever was happening to him could just be fixed with all the love that was being showered on him.

But that didn't seem to be the case. Even as he was drowsy after, with a sore throat from keeping his sounds silent and his eyes puffy and red against the crow plush still held in a death grip, even though he felt the warmth and love that Karkat exuded in droves, he couldn't help but feel that Bro was watching, looking at him disapprovingly and deciding the best ways to add to the red on his arms.

Dave couldn't help but know that his brother was going to tear them apart, and that thought plagued him as he dreamt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have a little bonus from Daves view

**Author's Note:**

> wow this came out a lot more angsty than I originally intended


End file.
